


Office Hours

by Silverwing26, soulless_lover



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blasphemy, Desk Sex, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Latin Kink, M/M, Office Sex, Professor Michaelis, Rosary Kink, Shameless Smut, Shota, Smut and Popcorn, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Weston Arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2479151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwing26/pseuds/Silverwing26, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulless_lover/pseuds/soulless_lover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being at Weston is rough on poor little Phantomhive: he has to get up at half-past six in the morning, share a dorm room with several other boys, and get dressed by himself; he has classes to take and piles of homework to do; <i>and</i> he hasn't had sex in almost three weeks. What's an impatient first-year falling behind in Latin to do? Fortunately, Professor Michaelis - the school's Latin teacher and spiritual advisor - has office hours.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><b>Silverwing26</b> as <strike>The Vulgar Vicar</strike> <strike>The Carnal Cleric</strike> <strike>The Pounder of the Pulpit</strike> Sebastian<br/><b>soulless_lover</b> as <strike>The Prurient Pupil</strike> <strike>The Salacious Student</strike> <strike>The Dirty Disciple</strike> Ciel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Hours

**Author's Note:**

> for Sam - happy birthday! :DDD

This was a relatively peaceful time of the morning for Professor Michaelis; apart from the sound of students and the occasional teacher passing outside his closed office door, the only other sound was the scratching of his pen on paper as his elegant script filled the page. 

The demon in vicar's clothes had nearly finished penning the notes for his next morning mass. He smiled to himself and nearly chuckled with the irony of the entire situation. There was something deviously fulfilling about looking over a sea of youthful faces knowing they were looking to him to guide them down a path of good moral standing and servitude. It was turning out to be a fine morning. 

There was a knock at the door and a familiar voice called to him. “Professor Michaelis? Are you in?” 

His lips curled at the corners. _Oh yes, a fine morning indeed._ “Yes, do come in.”

The door opened and there stood Ciel, who had apparently just come from his physical education class, judging by his rumpled jumper, windblown hair, knee stockings, and short trousers. "Oh, I'm ever so glad! I'm having such difficulty with my homework, you see…"

One of Ciel's classmates dashed past, waving to him. "See you then, Phantomhive! Don't forget!" The boy threw an apologetic look at Sebastian and rushed on. "Sorry for running, Professor Michaelis!"

Ciel beamed a cheery smile and returned the wave, calling out to the boy's retreating form: "Right! The library, after breakfast! I won't forget!" He came into the office and shut the door; the sunny little-boy expression fell away instantly, and he leaned back against the door in apparent exhaustion. "Ugh. Children."

Sebastian tilted his head and looked over the rims of his spectacles at the boy; it always amused the devil greatly to watch how his little contractor was forced to adjust to vastly different ways of doing things - it was quite impressive, actually. He leaned back in his chair and draped one leg over the other. “That was a rather convincing performance. The other boys seem very taken with you.” He laced his fingers together with an indulgent little chuckle and rested them on his bent knee.

"Heh," Ciel replied, throwing the demon a knowing look. "You're one to talk - do you know how much nonsense about you I have to listen to?" He clasped his hands together, balancing his textbook in the crook of his elbow, and put on the most sparkling, dazzled expression he could muster. "'Oh, Phantomhive, isn't Professor Michaelis your dorm master? It must be _so_ nice to have him about all the time, he's so kind and understanding! Oh, Phantomhive, Isn't Professor Michaelis wonderful? I thought for certain I'd get my hands slapped for doing so poorly on the exam, but instead he went over all the things I'd missed with me, and now I'm doing ever so much better! Isn't he just a _wonderful_ teacher?'" He dropped the act like a wet towel and snorted unkindly. "They're besotted with you, the lot of them - just like Branson, or whatever his name is; he didn't bother to stop running because he knew you'd let him get away with it 'just this once'. Gah."

The devil's shoulders shook ever so slightly as he ran his tongue over his lips, and it was enough to keep himself from laughing outright; the child really could do a wonderful facsimile of the epitome of innocent youth when he so chose. His frustration was beguiling, and the apparently very popular teacher smirked, brushing a speck of dust from his knee. “Well, just this once,” he chuckled, and his garnet eyes glittered. “Are you implying I am overly lenient?”

"Oh, no, not at all." Ciel's tone was light, but it carried more than a hint of venom. "You're just so _kind_ and _understanding_ , and being a gentle _holy man_ , you'd never, _ever_ use violence as an instructive method, _noooo_." His mouth twisted into an evil little smile. "And aren't you so _pleasant_ to look at! Why, just the other day, I glanced over the shoulder of that kohl-eyed fellow - Marks, or something? - and my _goodness_ , they did right to put him in Violet House! His skill at drawing supposedly-human anatomy is really quite astonishing to behold!" He paused for a moment, then added, "Though I daresay he has a rather overactive imagination."

Jealousy was such a delectable human emotion; here was his cherubic-looking little pupil with a voice that could hold the rapt attention of an angel, and yet the boy's words dripped with a serpent's venom. The demon curled a finger against his bottom lip as if in thought. “Is that a fact? My, one can only imagine why his marks in Latin have been slipping. Do you suppose he is hoping I shall call him in for a tutoring session?” Professor Michaelis arched a brow, a teasing smile about his lips, and when he spoke again his voice was low and honeyed. “Well then, Phantomhive, did you correct him?”

Ciel's lips parted as his cruel smile widened, showing a flash of his pearly teeth. "He saw me looking and was _very_ embarrassed, as you can imagine. Literally _begged_ me not to tell a soul… but as I'm not entirely certain you have one, I don't think I'm breaking his confidence too badly." He couldn't help snickering as an addendum, "I did consider blackmailing him… but of course sweet little first-year Phantomhive would never do such a thing, so I told him he had nothing to be ashamed of, as his talent was truly amazing and his anatomy drawings were so impressive, just like the ones in our art history books! He honestly thought me to be so innocent that I wouldn't realize the inspiration for his studious sketches was mere lust."

“Well, with acting such as that, perhaps _you_ should have been placed in Violet House.” The demon arched a brow and chuckled. “Your skill at flattery is quite impressive - such sweet words might lead that boy astray. One wonders where you learned such a thing.” The devil smirked, “So is innocent Mr. Phantomhive here for help with his homework, or have you also been driven by something less wholesome?”

A cunning look crossed the boy's features, only to be immediately replaced with a darling, doe-eyed expression as sweet as golden syrup. "Oh, Professor Michaelis! Don't tease me so!" He took a few steps and paused in the middle of the office, striking the most artfully childish pose he could possibly manage: he hugged the textbook to his chest with both arms and ducked his head a bit to hide the lower half of his face behind it, as if he were overcome with shyness; he shifted his weight to one foot and raised the heel of the other one to balance on the very tip of the toe of his shoe; he crossed one grass-stained knee in front of the other, pressing his thighs together; and finally he murmured, "I'm only here for help with my lesson, of course - what else could I possibly want?"

The vicar's brows raised. _Isn't this an enticing display..._ “And which lesson is that, Phantomhive?” Professor Michaelis closed his ledger and put the book to the side of his desk. “I am relatively confident there are a number I am qualified to instruct you in.” He tilted his head to the side, a few strands of black hair slipping from behind his ear; it was at times tortuous, at times marvelous, at times humorous to watch Ciel walk through the halls of Weston. Garnet eyes traced over the boy from his shining shoes and grass-stained knees to that childlike face and the mischief dancing behind that beautiful blue eye. He was a stunning black lamb amongst a sea of white, thoughtless chattle fit for naught more than fodder, but oh, _this_ boy. “Perhaps you should come show me.”

"Oh, thank you ever so much, Professor!" Ciel scurried over to the desk with deliberately small steps, came right up to the side of Sebastian's desk chair, and leaned across him to put the textbook on the desk; pressing his left thigh up against the arm of the chair, he opened the book and leaned even further forward, raising up on tiptoe to reach far enough across the desk that he could reach the left-hand page. "It's this bit here," he chirped boyishly, pointing to a conjugation table. "It's ever so hard… er, difficult, I mean." 

“I see, yes.” The devil unlaced those long gloved fingers and trailed one down the boy's arm, over his hand, to then tap his index finger against the text in question. “What is hard is always more fulfilling, Phantomhive. This is quite advanced.” He allowed himself a moment to look over that thin body stretched across his lap, to look at the way his back and legs flexed to keep him balanced on his toes. The professor chuckled to himself and uncrossed his long legs; his deep voice held a hint of amusement as it rolled off his tongue in great purred syllables: “Come up here so that you might see the text properly. You will have no head for memorization if you are teetering about at the edge of your balance.”

Ciel stood upright again and blinked his wide blue eye at his teacher. "Oh, but… I'm not very good at climbing up… would you help me, Professor?" 

"Of course. If you wouldn't mind turning round, please?" When Ciel complied, Sebastian took hold of his narrow waist with both hands and lifted him up, then settled him atop his lap, those thin, coltish legs dangling to either side, little boot-heels thumping lightly against the chair's frame.

"Oh, thank you, Professor! I can see the book much more clearly now!" Ciel squirmed a bit, wriggling his behind as if he were trying to get more comfortably seated, then leaned forward over the desk to peer at the text. "It's so hard!" he said, wriggling a bit more. "This conjugation, I mean - sometimes I wonder if they were right to put me in such an advanced Latin class as a first-year..." 

“Ah, excellent.” The professor exhaled softly as the impish little thing wiggled in his lap, then arched a brow and chanced a wicked smile at the back of boy's head. When he wiggled again, Sebastian slipped his gloved hands from the boy's waist to his thighs. “Ah, careful, Phantomhive. I would hate for you to fall from my lap.” Those long fingers curled and slid slightly between his thighs firmly assuring he wouldn't slip and rubbing lightly through his short trousers. “Now then, there are things far harder than this.” The professor leaned over his pupil's back to gaze at the page; the chain from his spectacles brushed Ciel's cheek and his breath was warm and soft against his ear. “We shall have to find _some way_ to assure your memorization of these conjugations, Phantomhive.” He laughed, a deep and rich sound, and brought those sinful lips closer to the boy's ear. “Otherwise you might just have to attempt to persuade the teacher to take pity on you.”

Ciel inhaled sharply, feeling that solid chest pressing up against his back, those deceptively gentle hands caressing his inner thighs, and the coldness of the spectacle-chain against his face, perfectly complementing the hot breath in his ear. A shudder of delight ran down his spine, and he couldn't help the embarrassing little shiver that shook his small body at that moment; he was keenly aware of the devil's sweet scent, the texture of his robes, the hard edges of the rosary he could feel through the back of his jumper… and the hard ridge beneath him that was becoming more and more noticeable by the second. "Professor Michaelis… do you know of some special study technique that might help me learn my lesson?" He twisted around to look over his shoulder at the devil's face. "I'd be ever so grateful!" 

“Of course. There are always ways of teaching apt little boys their lessons.” Sebastian's smile was so sincere, so placid and gentle, but those fiery garnet eyes were smoldering with want. He chuckled softly, and that hard ridge beneath Ciel's bottom twitched. One gloved hand came and curled a finger beneath the boy's chin as he spoke, “You see, all we need do is to engage you in some _activity_ that you will find memorable. You shall recite your conjugations then,” he nearly purred, “and later on, you need only remember the event and if you studied your tenses adequately, they shall come to you.”

Ciel leaned back and slid an arm up behind Sebastian's neck, turning his face against the underside of that smooth white jaw. "Oh, but Professor," he breathed, running clever little fingers through Sebastian's glossy black hair, "I'd get distracted, wouldn't I? What memorable thing can I do at the same time as studying my lesson?" Softly, sweetly, he tilted his head back a bit more and pressed a feather-light kiss to the skin just above the devil's high clerical collar. 

Sebastian responded with a soft growl as those little lips pressed against his throat. “Distracted, hmm? It shall have to be something thoroughly engrossing then.” He felt those little fingers in his hair massaging his scalp and he tilted his head back ever so slightly. “Now, what comes to mind when I ask you for the past participle?” With a beautiful, evil chuckle, one of those gloved hands began rubbing between Ciel's thighs, moving slowly higher until his talented fingers were tracing the junction where his thighs met, and then he palmed the boy's stiffening length through his short trousers.

"Ah!" Ciel gasped softly, his grip on Sebastian's hair tightening slightly, his breath hitching as his chest began to rise and fall more quickly. "I… oh, I… ah…!" He was starting to pant, trying very hard not to roll his hips forward into that devilishly gentle hand. "Professor, I… ohh…" It had been nearly three straight weeks since he and Sebastian had last done anything of an explicitly intimate nature, and Ciel felt as though every nerve were lighting up, eager for the devil's touch; what made it even more unbearable was the fact that "Professor Michaelis" was very fond of playing his part to the letter, and the hands that caressed him were every bit as gentle as he would have expected from an actual clergyman, compassionate and kind. At any other time, Ciel would have found it unsettling, his demon pretending to be so docile - but as Sebastian's gloved hand slid beneath the hem of his short trousers to stroke the tender skin of his inner thigh, he began to quiver, and all he could think was just how much he wanted those sweet, kindly hands all over his body. "Ohh, Professor…"

Sebastian dipped his head, feeling his hair tugged as he did so, and soon he was exhaling soft rumbling breaths against the boy's ear as he dusted the pale skin with kisses. He felt Ciel shiver, felt his small body tremble in his lap; the demon's fingers traced along sensitive skin, sliding higher beneath his short trousers; his other hand squeezed that growing hard length, and then continued to slide up that thin, heaving chest. “Yes, my little lamb?” He asked with a soft chuckle against Ciel's ear. The feel of his little pupil against his chest, responding so thoroughly to his touches, was simply enthralling. His body was so sensitive and it moved beautifully under the devil's careful attention. Perhaps the only thing as alluring as feeling that small form in his lap quivering and fighting with itself was the sound of that soft voice breathing out rapturous half sentences. Ciel was innocent and wicked, soft and hard, he was the perfect offering, and the devil sucked on the skin below his ear as that roving, gentle hand _finally_ brushed over a tiny nipple.

Ciel sucked in a sharp breath, instinctively arching into his teacher's touch, tilting his head obligingly to the side to allow that hot mouth better access to his neck. "Ah… ahhh, Professor Mi-Michaelis… I… I can't think of any of my Latin verbs at all…!" Sebastian's hand slid under his jumper, then continued to rub that achingly hard nipple through his shirt, teasing little circles that had Ciel writhing and panting in far less time than he would have cared to admit. "I-I can scarcely think - ah! - at all!" His hips seemed to rock of their own accord, and in fact, he didn't even realize he was doing so until the false vicar's erection had become so hard it was becoming uncomfortable to sit on. 

“Oh dear,” he breathed against the boy's neck, his tongue slipping past his lips to lick a line of wet heat behind his ear. “I suppose you shall have to rely on persuading your teacher if you cannot remember your lessons at all.” Sebastian was achingly hard, fully erect and leaking with that panting little creature grinding against his cock. With a lascivious chuckle, the devil pinched and pulled that sensitive little nipple _just so_ and as Ciel gasped and his back arched, Sebastian slid down further in the chair. It was a subtle shift, but as he rubbed and caressed and drew tantalizing little moans from between parted lips, he situated the boy higher against his chest, his hard length now nudged between his writhing little pupil's thighs. “Do try your best, Phantomhive, lest I have to keep you back for remedial lessons,” he growled softly, nipping at the pale wet skin.

"Y-Yes, Professor." Ciel reached down as best as he could and began tugging at the buttons holding the devil's cassock closed; his hands were shaking so badly he could hardly hold on to the ridiculously tiny and complicated things, but in a few minutes he had somehow managed to pry them open all the way down to the hem. Throwing the sides back, he hissed a frustrated curse as he realized he would then have to deal with Sebastian's trouser buttons. 

“Hmm,” the false vicar hummed appreciatively, hearing the soft stuttered syllables. “Yes, good boy.” The arousal and the frustration clung to Ciel's skin and it was finer than any perfume. Sebastian's tongue curled around and overly long tooth as he tugged the boy's shirt free of his short trousers. Those soft cotton-clad fingers circled his navel, then slowly slid up his chest, stroking along his ribs, and then he rolled one pink nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He felt those little hands begin to fuss with his trouser buttons and he purred against the back of his pupil's neck as his head hung forwards. “Good, go on,” he encouraged, squeezing Ciel's small, twitching cock through his short-trousers, feeling the damp wool against his thumb. He rubbed small circles over the head and chuckled with delight when he felt those soft, pale thighs quiver in response.

Getting the buttons open was difficult enough for Ciel, but getting them open upside down, with those whisper-soft gloved fingers toying with his nipple and coaxing fluid from his almost painfully stiff cock… well, it was nigh on impossible. "Ah!" he cried, as the devil's hand ghosted across his chest to the other nipple, "I… I can't…!" Gooseflesh rose across the surface of his skin as those cruelly sweet lips pressed kisses to his nape, warm breath stirring the downy hair there and sending another delicious shiver through his body. "Nnn!"

“How unlike you,” he teased and kissed the back of the boy's neck again and again, punctuating his words with soft lips and hot breath, “to admit defeat.” He pinched one sensitive nipple before his hand slipped lower to the straining cloth of his trousers, his skilled fingers making short work of his flies, even with the extra strain put on the buttons. He chuckled in the back of his throat, his lips sliding down Ciel's neck, and each time he slipped a button free he gave another squeeze and slow stroke to that small, aching cock beneath his fingers. “I trust you will more than make up for needing such assistance.” His words were velvety, like the boy's soft skin, and Sebastian found his hips rolling with the desire to feel his shaft encircled by those little hands; he was heavy and dripping and painfully hard, and when an inadvertent gasp escaped Ciel at the sight of it, the devil couldn't help but smile.

"Professor," Ciel mock-whimpered, "you're teasing again. How very unlike _you_ , the kindest and most understanding teacher in the school!" He folded his arms and affected the best pout he could, even though what he _really_ wanted to do was get down on his knees and take the devil's cock in his mouth and tease him right back until the bastard called quarter. But "innocent little Phantomhive" would know _nothing_ about such things, and the game wasn't over yet. _If he thinks I've admitted defeat in any way, he'll be thinking otherwise very shortly!_ "Why are you being so unkind to your little student? I'm trying so very hard to learn, and you're saying such things!" He curled his lower lip out just a tiny bit - not too much, lest he overdo it, but just enough to look properly sulky - and then twisted around again to look up at the devil and asked, "Do you not like me, Professor Michaelis?"

_Clever little brat,_ he thought as he smiled down into that pouting face. “Perhaps I tease you so you will make such a face.” Sebastian's hand trailed up Ciel's body, caressing the silky skin of the boy's neck; he curled his fingers and stroked that protruding little lip as he brought his face very close the to boy's; he looked into that deep blue eye, holding his gaze and blinking slowly, and when the devil licked his lips, Ciel could almost feel the professor's tongue against his own mouth. “ _Like_ you, Phantomhive?” His other hand began working the buttons of the boy's short trousers open. “Why, have you not heard of such a thing,” he whispered, loosening the string of the muslin drawers underneath, “as 'teacher's _pet_ '?” As the last word left his lips, his hand slipped beneath the cloth to pet and stroke the boy's hard little cock, squeezing the dripping head.

Ciel moaned and Sebastian leaned in to kiss his open mouth; the devil's gloved hand was as soft as velvet against his sensitive skin, stroking lightly, up and down, up and down; the false vicar's kisses somehow managed to be both sweetly chaste and incredibly sinful, the tip of his tongue sliding across Ciel's lips; the boy arched eagerly into Sebastian's touch as his free hand slid back up under his little pupil's shirt and began to pet him all over; and in short order Ciel was panting, rolling his hips, teetering at the edge of climax. "Oh… Professor Michaelis," he gasped, breaking the kiss to press his face into the devil's neck. "Oh… _oh_ … I…"

He could feel Ciel trembling all over like a harp string that had been plucked, his little moans and cries like sweet lilting music; the professor's eyes glowed with hellfire as he could feel the tension building in his little pupil, heard his breathing hitch and fall ragged and uneven from his lips, felt his heart racing beneath his flushed skin. Sebastian smiled and leaned back just a bit further still, splaying the boy across his chest, the heated panting against his neck drawing a long, soft growl from him; his other hand was eagerly receiving lewd little thrusts as Ciel rolled his hips up into it; he squeezed and stroked and when the boy's head began to toss back and forth against his neck, he rubbed little circles over the leaking head and purred, “Let it come, little one.”

Ciel's legs sprawled wide; his spine arched higher and higher with every gasp, every thrust, every beat of his pounding heart, building and building and _building_ until the crescendo finally broke within him and he climaxed with a cry so loud that Sebastian had to cover the boy's mouth lest someone outside the office hear it. He shuddered and trembled, clinging to the devil's neck, pressing his flushed face against that smooth cheek as he quivered and whimpered and moaned beneath the gloved hand over his mouth. Finally, he slumped back against his teacher, panting and wondering dimly what his next "lesson" would be...


End file.
